


Bulletproof Heart

by Alma



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Ratings may change, Sad, Secret Santa, Zombie Apocalypse, jeanmarco giftexchange, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alma/pseuds/Alma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scenario that was presented to them, was frightening and absolutely not what Jean had expected. Over a dozen people were literally stumbling inside and pushing each other, but neither Marco nor Jean believed it was because they were fleeing from something. On the contrary, they seemed to search and apparently they found whatever they were looking for. Besides their growling and gurgling, which was already making them inhuman, their eyes were the most strikingly characteristic. Despite the fact that they were still kind of far away, it was impossible to not notice the white eyes of those bursting in. They couldn’t really focus, but still seemed to see.</p><p>What happened to seem like a movie experience, continued to be one. </p><p>OR</p><p>A zombie apocalypse AU in which we wonder: will Marco die?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bulletproof Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firegrilled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firegrilled/gifts).



> Ohhh hello! I hope you are seeing this [firegrilled](http://firegrilled.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> I didn't even try to write a little ficlet, cuz I got ideas, man! I collected a lot of scenes I wanted to include and I will! Don't know how it will turn out in the end, but so far I'm happy with as it is. I hope you'll enjoy the first chapter of your gift. I know it's no excuse, but I'll always say that english isn't my first language and I'm learning, so I take every opportunity to write and teach myself more and more!
> 
> /sighs/ And I guess I got so involved in yours and mine idea of this fic, that I even made a playlist for it,... just.. because. It's a mix of different music genres and mostly consists of my favourite bands.  
> You can listen to it [HERE](http://8tracks.com/cherrybodt/bulletproof-heart)!
> 
> And now I wanna thank [reynkout](http://archiveofourown.org/users/reynkout/pseuds/reynkout), for proofing my writing and helping me to erase the worst mistakes. ♥
> 
> Okay, is there more I wanna say?
> 
> Merry christmas and happy holidays! I hope you are having a fantastic day and got a lot of presents!
> 
> Virtual hugs and lots of love,  
> Alma
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Cherrybodt)

**** Three Hours Before Inception

  
  


Dust was floating through the air, only visible in the trail of light that came from between the curtains of the window. Jean wasn’t sure how long he stared at the little flecks dancing in the light, but it was strangely calming. Not that he wasn’t calm, but he kept getting sleepy all over again. Half an hour ago he had awoken and stared at the ceiling, too lazy to stand up already, especially because he had nothing to do today. 

For him to be sleepy was something normal by now. There was no morning he woke up and wasn’t too tired to already get up and go to his holiday working place. It was a mystery to him how people could jump out and be ready for everything that was coming to them. Jean needed at least an hour to thaw from his slumber, and then be halfway useful. Today was not a day to be lazy, though. Actually, it wasn’t that kind of day for a week now.

The sound of steps outside his door were becoming louder and louder. Jean knew whoever it was, it was someone who wanted to burst in. The nervous knot in his stomach twisted painfully (though he wasn’t really sure if it was hunger speaking or the sheer fear of what was coming closer). Although he suspected who was rushing towards his door 

The stepping noise suddenly stopped and the silence was back, causing Jean to look up and listen closely. But even that did not prevent him from getting startled when a groaning woman barged in. 

“Jean!” she shrieked and rushed to the window; she opened the curtains and was letting the light into the room. Again, Jean’s whole body twitched, as if the sun was dangerous. Quickly he threw the blanket over his head and hid himself from the light, but that did not save him from the wrath of the girl in his room.

It didn’t take long and she was pulling at his warm blanket that had helped him sleep so well. Weak as he always was in the morning, he couldn’t resist the strength of a hungry woman. 

“You were supposed to buy groceries yesterday. I told ya we need something good to eat today. I can’t make a breakfast without bread and I refuse to eat cereal.” she huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest looking down at the whimpering, tired and annoyed mess that Jean was. He grimaced up at her and winced when she hit him (playfully, but hard enough for him to jerk his knee away), because he wasn’t answering (or stuttering) some kind of excuse. “You asshole, I’m not living with you because you can waste some space!” 

It could hurt to hear words like that but, good thing was, Sasha was a long time friend and Jean knew she didn’t mean any harm by it, even though she seemed still pissed. They went to the same college and then decided to move together to keep the rent prices low. They could have used the common roommate principle but they were both against it. Living with someone they didn’t know? So close to the school? No way! Luckily they were allowed to do it this way. For both, college was too far away from their homes, so living together (not with their parents) was the best solution. It was going well so far. They had plans, who did what and when and nobody was annoyed. Well, until today. 

“Hurgh, leave me alone, Sash. I’m tired.” he groaned, covering his face with his arms and pulling the legs closer, like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Unfortunately, Sasha had eyes like an eagle. 

“You lanky leek! Swing your bony ass out of the bed and to the supermarket or else I’ll burn down your bed and everything you love.” Which basically was only the bed, if he was completely honest.

But the fire in her eyes was too real to ignore so he gave in with a weak sigh, turning onto his back and sitting up. “Fine, fine, now leave.”

“I don’t trust you, Kirschstein.” she hissed, still glaring at him. 

“Leave, for fucks sake, I’ll be ready in a minute.”

A minute became an hour, but in the end Jean was stepping out of the bathroom, way more blithely than before. The things he did to please his roommate. Although he could understand why she had been so outraged by his laziness. After all, it had been his job to get the groceries, that was the plan they both agreed on, and while Sasha did other stuff, he was supposed to keep his word as well. Jean still would always trade his bed with any kind of duty, but he was an honest man. Besides that, he knew how Sasha got when there wasn’t anything good to eat (or even useful to make a great meal), so it kind of had been his own fault. He should have seen it coming. Luckily it was a weekend; no college he had to attend and pay attention to.

On contrary to Sasha he got along well with cereal, and he quickly filled a bowl to the brim, poured milk inside and cursed himself quietly when some of the flakes were pushed up and out of the bowl. He should have seen that coming as well. But he wasn’t that picky and grabbed the fleeing flakes, only to throw them into his mouth. 

The girl with the reddish hair was sitting in front of the television and was clicking through the channels, not really searching for something good. It was the act of changing the channels itself that was keeping her busy. It seemed like she had just as much to do today as Jean himself, which meant nothing. But, of course, she prefered kicking his ass out of bed instead of going to the supermarket herself. She did it on principle. Typical as it was for her, she commented on every channel she fleetingly saw.

“Boring,” it started. “Nope. Neh. Blah. Too loud. Too advertising. What are you even talking about? Too news tellerish-”

“ Wait!” Jean chimed in and made Sasha use the remote to return to the previous channel. The news were flashing over the screen and Jean stopped chewing to listen in concentration. He only saw a big header that caught his attention. While somebody was talking about an incidence, they showed original footage from the crime scene. It had probably been filmed from a mobile, but the quality did not affect the scenery. It showed several police officers surrounding a woman with.. was that blood on her hands? The news reporter explained, that the woman had been a kindergarten teacher and killed up to three little kids. While the police officers were trying to calm her down and told her to lay down on the ground, it seemed like she wasn’t even understanding what they said. Jean tried his best to get what was happen  _ exactly  _ on the screen, but it was hard to concentrate on the people when the camera was moving constantly. All of a sudden, people were screaming. The woman was moving and the film was cut off right after the sound of shooting was recorded. The news reporter confirmed what had been heard. The woman had been shot down.

Jean continued chewing on his cereal, which was a little soggy by now. This was the fifth time in a  _ week  _ that somebody, who seemed quite innocent, had killed someone - or more. 

“Oh gosh, the world’s going crazy.” was Sasha’s comment and she grimaced at the television, turning around on the couch to face her flatmate. “She freaking killed little kids, that’s.. that’s the worst thing ever. Well, I mean.. killing in general is a total no-go, but.. you get it. Those poor little kids..” 

Sasha was right; the world was going crazy. Jean always knew, that  _ things  _ were going wrong and it wasn’t really necessary to only look at the wars going on. But what really bothered him was the fact that the citizens were always treated like some child that couldn’t handle the truth. The young brunette had kept an eye on the happenings and wasn’t pleased at all. The first murdering spree of an older man, who had been in a comatose state for quite some time, already had been weird. It became questionable when the brutal killing by two young adults, who never even killed some cockroaches (according to family and friends), had been on the news. Neither the old man nor the couple had survived. Jean usually wasn’t interested in investigations like that, but his skepticism was tingling and, reluctantly, he found himself thinking about it now and then. Especially after the third occurrence, in which a young girl attacked several people in a discotheque. The police said the girl was influenced by a drug they haven’t heard of before. For Jean, it was new that drugs were causing the user to attempt killing people by biting and scratching them. Victims described the girl as furious and of an unsound mind. She did not survive, either, which hadn’t surprised Jean in the slightest. Self-defense, they had said. But using guns against unarmed humans wasn’t really self-defense, in Jean’s opinion.

It didn’t take long and drugs were the reason for everything. They suspected that the old man had been drugged, that the couple had consumed drugs and that the girl was influenced by a terrible, mind-changing drug was out of question. It wouldn’t take long for ‘experts’ to suspect the use of drugs in this case as well. The teacher probably had problems before, was depressed, or some kind of justification to make it more believable. All just to serve a reason and explanation. Just to keep the citizens quiet. 

Jean had always been good at complaining, but doing something? He never believed enough in himself to change anything about this fucked up system. Too many people that were able to overpower him. Besides, they’d find reasons to put him into the center of something bad, he was sure of it. There was enough shit in his past to sue him and he did not dare to let it get in his way of living.

The report was soon over and the news quickly changed from serious to unnecessary. Jean shook his head and finished his bowl of cereal; not wanting to waste the milk he drank it and wiped with his sleeve over his lips, putting away the dish to get ready for shopping. The less amusing kind. 

“I’ll head out, keep the house safe and try not to burn it down.” he called out to her, albeit there was more seriousness in his words than joke.

Jean threw himself elegantly into their cheap VW Polo, which they both had bought from their first paychecks. It wasn’t the most beautiful car, but it was enough to make them mobile. The ride took him round about ten minutes, which was nothing compared to other days. The streets were strangely empty and the few people he spotted, weren’t even half of the usual amount. Mostly he spent minutes waiting and staring at the asses of other cars (which more often than not were way more expensive), but today it seemed like he missed some kind of holiday. For a moment he feared that his ride was for nothing and the supermarket would be closed. It wouldn’t surprise him, really. Thing that didn’t concerned him too much were quickly forgotten. 

Relieved he arrived at the supermarket and saw some people going in and out. Not much, but at least enough to show him that the town wasn’t dead. At this point, he couldn’t have guessed how wrong he was.

Even though he managed to park his car and intrude the market, he didn’t really feel calmer. Somehow, it bothered him a lot that things were going way too smooth. Jean technically never minded when things went smooth, as that could be understood in every way possible, but right now it left him feeling uncomfortable. 

Enthusiastically, he stepped past the entrance and noticed that quite a lot people were buying shit for the weekend. He heard the noise of busy people shoving their shopping cart around and different voices speaking to each other. The thing he had felt outside was for now pushed away, though not completely gone. Sometimes he really cursed his weird senses. Trying to get himself busy as well, he listened to the music coming from the speakers, typical radio music with the newest mainstream songs and Jean caught himself on rare occasions enjoying it.

All of a sudden, he was aware of the fact that he had no clue what to buy in the first place. Bugged by his own stupidity he pulled his phone out, searching for the green messenger and clicked on the name ‘Monster’; immediately a chat opened and, while tipping out a question, he spotted a big problem. He had no internet connected, but that wasn’t really what surprised and bothered him the most. He had no connection to his provider in general. This never had happened to him before, and it took him a few seconds before he breathed a sigh and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Alrighty then, he thought. Time to improvise… did that even make sense? Jean huffed and scratched his cheek, looking around. He grabbed a plastic basket and let it swing while walking. Now he only needed some wine and bread to present Sasha, although she was more like the hungry wolf than a granny. So, basically, he was in danger either way. Well, then he should’ve better make the best of it and buy stuff he always wanted to buy. Not like it was his money anyway. 

With little to no desire to traverse the store for longer than necessary, he picked the first things up he thought he could like. Most of the time the cook in him decided which supplies he wanted to throw (or gentle place) into the plastic basket. Next to some nice vegetables and fruit, he found several way too sweet and probably deadly candies. The marshmallow-something that one could spread over the bread was, without questioning, the most dangerous one. He’d probably lose all his teeth.

From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a melon. So freshly green and perfectly round. Jean’s hands immediately twitched to touch it. Which he did, not caring much how perverted he surely looked while doing so. Without thinking about it twice, he placed the fruit inside the basket, finally getting to the stuff they, without a doubt, really needed. Like bathing products and.. what Sasha needed..? It would explain why she was so unbelievable moody today. Shrugging, he grabbed a packet of tampons. Small, it said. What the fuck. How was he supposed to know what she needed? He didn’t even know there were different sizes. But now that he thought about it, it made sense. Shrugging again, he put the one he already held in his hands into the basket. He had only seen a packet once in their bathroom, but he didn’t really pay attention to it. Especially not right at the beginning of their homely life together. Besides, getting caught while figuring out which size of tampons a friend needed wasn’t really on his to-do list.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shrill noise coming from the speakers. Jean assumed there was going to be a call for another employee or whatever, but it turned out to be wrong.

“On the basis of uncongenial and complicated problems, we are insisted to turn off the lights. Please remain calm. The power will be back soon, as we will be. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

The brunette looked up and blinked a few times. This never happened to him before in his entire, incredibly young life. A lot of things never happened to him today, and he immediately felt the uncomfortable skepticism coming back to him. He convinced himself that the inconvenience was the possibility of a failed maintenance.

Magnificent, he thought and snorted about himself for even thinking such a word.

Despite the warning, it still made Jean start when the light was turned off. The whole supermarket was becoming darker, and he only noticed then that the market had no windows except at the entrance. Of course not. Less windows meant more room for ware, but the sudden darkness was giving the whole place a creepy atmosphere. The only bit of light was coming from multiple refrigerated display cases and some rays that reached him from the entry. It seemed they really only shut a part down, otherwise the refrigerators wouldn’t work. Grocery shopping felt oddly wrong now, as if he wasn’t supposed to keep doing what he just did a few seconds before. Shouldn’t they leave? It occured him that this surely had to do with profit, and closing the market would probably cause losses. Capitalism was his explanation and he continued his shopping spree, even though he barely managed finding the things he wanted. It wasn’t pitch black, but it was dark enough to make his orientation go wild.

Other customers were doing the same and kept moving through the halls. It wouldn’t make sense to stop moving, just because somebody turned the light off, for what reason ever.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he came to a halt at the cash register. Usually, one could easily pass the register, but now it was blocked with some kind of metallic barrier… or waist-high gate. Jean didn’t know a word for that, but that wasn’t really the point anyway. The thing was, it was closed to prevent anyone to pass, pay and go. Confused, he turned himself around a few times in search for the reason, but only was met by equally confused glances from others. Only a few seconds passed until a stressed employee was rushing towards them, his hands held up to his chest in an excusing manner. Jean thought he looked like Chris Pratt trying to keep his predators from killing. If he was honest, he was slowly becoming annoyed enough to. He wondered if the television would say he was a drug addict as well. Nope, maybe only an annoyed customer who had enough of this ‘inconvenience’.

“There’s a power failure, which includes our cash registers.” the small, blond guy tried to explain. Jean raised his brow not in the slightest understanding.

“Ah yeah, sure, and that’s something that no one managed to tell us before?” he asked, condemning the guy with a pointy nose. 

“We just figured that out, we-”

“ Okay, whatever. Then I’m just wasting good time. Keep your stuff, I’ll pay a visit to another market.” he muttered to the visible desperate employee, whose eyes were moving without stopping- from Jean to the others and back to him. Jean heard whispering from the other customers, which were siding against the employee as well, agreeing with Jean. They put their plastic baskets away, just as well letting go of their shopping carts. A weird feeling was crawling through Jean and was making him feel somehow really  _ powerful _ . He shook himself at the thought and grimaced, which left the blond guy shivering. He sure as hell thought it was for him.

Jean was about to climb over the metallic barrier, but the employee came to a halt right in front of him, preventing him from doing what he had planned. What the stranger didn’t know was that making Jean angry was the worst decision one could do. Unfortunately, the brunette felt watched, and losing his very containment was making him thinking about it twice. Still, the annoyance was visible on his features and he straightened his back, looking down at the suddenly very small, blonde guy. Jean didn’t think he wanted to be so annoying, but some people’s existence was enough to bring his blood to a boil.  

“I dare to believe it’s not your fault, that this shit is happening, but it will be if you keep me from leaving. I won’t let anybody tell me what to do. So, would you, please, step aside?” The taller one did his very best to make his words sound less than a threat then it really was, but even then the blond guy’s eyes were becoming huger; he did not make any move.

“I-i-i’m sorry,,, b-but.. we can’t let anybody out.” he suddenly declared and it was Jean, for once, whose eyes enlarged. Several “what”s were coming from behind him and people were coming closer, accompanying him. If the situation weren’t suddenly so confusing to Jean, he probably would have felt something like pity for the sweating employee. 

“Explain yourself...” He tilted his head and glanced at the name tag of the boy. “.. Arlert.”

“A-armin,”

“That’s not an explanation, isn’t it?” 

The blonde shook his head and fleetingly threw his glance over his shoulder, as if searching for help from his coworkers, but there was no one to help him. He was alone against at least fifteen annoyed customers.

“T-the doors won’t open a-and.. a-and.. our security system is acting weird…”

The boy really did his best to keep the mob from revolting and,for a moment, it seemed that the most were believing his words. Jean felt like he was becoming the only one doubting his words and Armin seemed to notice. While the others were stepping back, (still cursing but processing what they just heard), Jean’s eyes were still locked onto the features of the seemingly younger boy. The sweat beading on his head was speaking for itself. Maybe he was just young and very uncomfortable with dealing with mad customers or he just was too stressed from the situation, either way, Jean felt like Armin had lied to him but, instead of questioning his words, he turned around.  
  


 

One Hour Before Inception

 

Nothing changed within half an hour. Jean was tired of sitting around and doing nothing, so he walked around the supermarket and read some magazines he found. He noticed, that there were way too many fashion magazines.  _How To Lose Weight In 30 Days or How To Get A Man. _ Jean only rolled his eyes, but caught himself searching that life changing article about altering yourself to please others. It was amazing. Who thought about something like that? No wonder people nowadays got depressed from being single in their mid twenties. The weird sound of something screeching caused him to look up and check it out. The noise led him, and others, to the cash registers again (which they still couldn’t pass without making Armin cry out). But the barrier wasn’t really what bothered him anymore. It was the fact that suddenly the windows were getting covered with blinds- moving downwards from the outside of the market. Jean had three questions: 1. How could it work without power? 2. Why was it necessary to cover the windows? 3. Why was it happening to him?

Faint light was the only thing gleaming inside from between the slight gaps of the blinds. The door was the only remaining light source, but it was almost impossible to look through due to several advertising posters. Understandably, there was cursing and growling from behind and besides him and, within seconds, Armin returned as if called. 

“Yo kid,” Jean started, feeling like the mouthpiece of the group. “What’s going on?”

“I wish I knew.” he answered without missing a beat and for the first time, Jean was convinced that he was telling the truth. 

“Where’s the manager? Anybody who has something to say?”

“I wish I-”

“\- knew, okay. Great!” the brunette finished Armin’s sentence and turned around, throwing his arms up into the air, and shook his head. “This is just great.”

Aggressively, he kicked an abandoned shopping cart, which went rolling over the linoleum. Luckily, it didn’t fall, otherwise Jean would have regretted his outburst. While Armin (apparently the only employee in this shithole) tried calming and explaining the situation as good as possible to all the others, Jean thought it would be the best to withdraw. The longer he put up with this  _ inconvenience  _ the more he’d get angry. 

On purpose, he grabbed his plastic basket and strolled over to the kitchen assortment. He wasn’t really picky and took one of the first knives he could get. If he was trapped in here, he might as well use the time with doing what he liked. Like eating. Sleeping was actually at the first place, but that wasn’t quite an option here. With knife and food, he returned to the magazine section.

When he turned around the corner, he spotted somebody else having almost the same thought as he himself. A dark haired male was sitting on the ground, his head supported by one of his hands, covering his face, while he was flicking through the pages of - Jean tilted his head carefully - a garden magazine? Well, whatever floats his boat, he guessed. Quietly he continued his mischievously plan, took something about the world (some kind of history magazine) and sat down as well, a few inches away from the other. If he was honest, it felt a little awkward. It was so quiet and almost too dark to see anything. Was the other one even reading? Jean pulled his phone out again and turned it on, activating the flashlight. To support his actions he leaned it against the wall, so it was now flashing directly over to the other shelf. It was bright enough for him to work with a knife without cutting himself. 

Jean heaved the melon out of his plastic cage and placed it on the ground. He wouldn’t _wait_ here for hours and not take advantage of it. Was it stealing? Well, technically yes. But he was already trapped and caged, so he didn’t really care at all. After freeing the knife as well, Jean stuck his tongue out in concentration, placing the knife at the stop of the green melone, when suddenly...

“Be careful!” A soft voice was calling out. 

Jean’s head snapped up. He was pretty sure that the stranger hadn’t been sitting that close to him before. In the dim light he saw the person coming even closer and, slowly, his figure was getting sharper and clearer. From what Jean could tell, the guy couldn’t be much older than he himself. His hair could have been brown, or black, it didn’t actually matter, because Jean was too occupied with realising this guy had freckles. Freckles weren’t something he’d never seen before, not at all, but the amount and clearness of them was amazing. He’d never seen a guy having freckles that distinguishing.

“Pardon, what?” Jean managed to croak, clearing his throat. 

“I said be careful.” he repeated with a friendly smile.

Without even asking, he took Jean’s phone. For a moment, the brunette’s heart jumped up his throat but he relaxed when he noticed that the guy only wanted to use the flashlight for shining directly onto the melon and knife.  _ Thank god _ , crossed Jean’s mind and he exhaled with a sigh. There was  _ stuff  _ on his phone nobody should see. Ever. 

The guy sat cross-legged beside him, and seemed pretty eager himself to see the melon getting cut. With the friendly help of the freckled stranger he started cutting the melon in half, suddenly getting hit by an idea.

“Wait here.” he said, almost gone around the corner, only to return and reach out towards his own phone. “Would you mind..?”

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, yeah, of course, here.”

It was quite amusing how fast he gained orientation and found immediately what he was searching for. For a moment he wanted to be selfish, but decided against it. They were in the boat (metaphorically speaking) and who knew how long they’d stay at this cold place? So better make friends for some time. 

“I brought spoons.” he explained and received a confused stare from the other. “You get a half, I get half, and then we’ll spoon it out.” Chuckling, he sat down again, leaning his phone against the shelf again, so there would be at least a little light. “You do want something, right?”

“Was it too obvious?” A smile was plastered onto his freckled face and he took the spoon out of Jean’s hand, not hesitating in the slightest.

“Kinda.” Jean affirmed and shrugged. “But that’s okay. That’s the least I can do for saving my nice hands.”

The dark haired snorted and literally embraced the melon like a baby, just to pick into it with his spoon. For some reason, Jean had the feeling of knowing him. Maybe he’d seen him before. Trost wasn’t so big and once you knew someone, you knew them all. Jean felt like he was the only one not having many friends. Sasha, for example, only needed to go outside and met like five people she once hung out with; it was pretty intimidating. As generally known, Jean wasn’t really smooth when it came to figuring something out, so he picked the phone up and shone it directly into the other’s face.

His hair was dark brown. As well as his eyes. The colour came out well, since the pupil minimized itself because of the light. His skin seemed sunkissed, which wasn’t a real surprise according to the amount of his freckles. He either enjoyed going out or wasn’t from Trost- or both. Jean noticed a prominent jaw. His features were rather soft, although he ducked away and grimaced. Understandingly. 

“What-?” he tried to ask, but Jean freed him from the unpleasant light.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Just when he said it, he realised how stupid it sounded. It was like the worst pick-up line somebody could say, but apparently the other didn’t think so and felt the seriousness of his question.

“I.. don’t think so? Why?” Worry was written on his forehead and in his eyes. Jean probably appeared judgemental or even intimidating. 

“Hm, I just feel like I’ve seen your face already, don’t worry.”

“Maybe you bought a coffee from me?” he suggested, shrugging, seemingly feeling calmer than before.

“... Do you work with someone whose name is Sasha?” 

His company stared at him for second and tilted his head before his eyes got huger than they already were. “You mean Sasha Braus?”

Again, Sasha knew everyone. How was this possible to know that many people in one lifetime? Jean was happy when he managed to keep the names of his classmates. Nethertheless, it finally deemed him right who this guy was and he couldn’t believe all the events that were happening on this particular day. 

“Yes. She’s my flatmate. Now it makes sense that I thought to knew you. Marco, right? She tells me about you almost everyday after work. She’s so stubborn..”

“W-why does she talk about me?” he asked, and Jean was sure to sense some kind of discomfort. 

“She tries to convince me to pick her up after work. Although I always suspected it to be a weak attempt to get what she wants, but to my regret I should have listened to her.” Jean rethought his statement about not being smooth and patted his own, bony shoulder. 

Luckily, the other laughed under his breath and flashed another smile. “I don’t even know your name and you’re already flirting with me.”

Jean’s words could have been taken massively wrong, but Marco laughed and shook his head in amusement. Besides, he trusted Sasha for knowing who could handle his awkwardness, especially when she tried desperately to get him to see Marco. 

“ My instincts are going wild.” he uncovered and grinned. “The whole ‘trapped in a supermarket’ is giving me  _ The Mist  _ feelings and, before I die, I’ll try not dying alone. The question is, does it work?”

It was like he had checkmated Marco’s mind, because he was stared at as if he had just unraveled some enigma Marco had thought about his entire life. To say this was somehow flattering to gain that many emotions within a few minutes, from a person he had never met before, was an understatement. 

“I’d say yes, but..”

Hurgh, Jean hated buts. Easy to confuse with  _ butts _ , which he enjoyed a lot. “.. No, because I’m a guy? Man, I trusted Sasha.”

“Oh no!” Marco immediately chimed in, causing Jean to pull his head back in surprise. “..far from that. To be honest I’m just really surprised that.. from all people here, we met. That’s really.. weird.”

“Well, what can I say. Survival instincts.” Jean repeated with a smug smile in his lips. He remembered the melon waiting for him and, while listening to Marco, whose voice had a really nice, deep tone, he ate the fruit with the spoon. 

Marco snorted again, shaking his head. “I don’t know how flirting with me would save your life, but anyway. No, I was just saying it might work, if we weren’t currently trapped in a supermarket and nobody knows what is going on. I’m sorry, but I’m slowly driving myself crazy… Uhm, by the way, what’s your name?”

“Jean,” he pronounced around a mouthful of watery melon. 

“Shaun?"

The brunette winced and wrinkled his nose. “Ew, no, Jeeean.”

“John?”

“What the hell, no.” He cleared his mouth and looked deeply into the eyes of the other. “Jeaaaan.”

“Thomas?” 

“I didn’t even.. oh fuck you, you bastard.” Softly he shoved Marco away, who dipped to the side, giggling. 

“Well, that escalated quickly.” he observed, rearranging his cross-legged position. “Sorry, sometimes I think of myself as hilarious.”

“I figured, you clown.” 

Jean’s smile returned and he believed, with company like Marco, he might survive this  _ inconvenience .  _

 

Five Minutes Before Inception

 

His guess hadn’t been too wrong, and time flew by so fast that Jean almost forgot that he was still trapped inside a supermarket. Sasha presumably was starving to death, but he was a bad friend and didn't give a second thought about her, too occupied listening to Marco. 

He was insanely easy to talk to and, after the first boring topics, they quickly talked about literally everything that crossed their minds. And even those weren’t that exciting, but Marco had a way to make anything interesting. Jean couldn’t deny that he enjoyed his company and he wouldn’t mind in the slightest to keep it that way. 

Unfortunately, their conversation found a rude end when someone dared to interrupt them. 

“Here you guys are,” sighed the blonde boy named Armin. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed once again, as if exhausted from searching.

“ You were looking for  _ us ? _ ”  Marco asked what Jean thought. The way Armin let his statement sound, it felt like he searched for them in particular, as if he knew they’d both be here. 

“We’re supposed to gather everyone together.” he explained and Jean saw that he was less stressed than before. But he could only have finally gotten used to it. 

“So we can finally leave?” Jean felt immediately relieved and way better, although Armin hadn’t confirmed his words yet. And he never would.

“There.. is a problem. We don’t know what, but we want everyone to stay together. So.. would you two please follow me?”

Instantly, Jean groaned and stood up nevertheless. “Really? How many problems can there be? Did somebody burn something down?”

“Wish it would be like that.”

Marco, who stood beside him, threw Jean a confused glance. The brunette cursed himself for not listening to his feelings. He’d been feeling uncomfortable since he left the house and now he was deeper in shit than he thought at the beginning. He didn’t know what went through Marco’s head, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t feeling great himself. 

Without any more questions, they followed the smaller boy back to the cash register section. Customers were spread all over the place. Some sat in a little group on the ground, others were trying to get in contact with anybody outside the supermarket, but just as Jean had noticed before, no phone was working. Was this a fucking wormhole, swallowing any kind of technology and cutting them apart from the outside world? This was fucking weird and not to Jean’s liking. 

“Okay, and what’s the matter now?” Jean crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the seemingly exhausted Armin, who sat down on the ground with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ve got no clue. Some of my coworkers went out, but they haven’t come back yet and the only instruction I got was keeping everyone inside.. like.. as if.. as if there is something outside.” Armin covered his face with his hands and stared down at the ground, looking like he’d seen something terrible.

Jean, though, was too distracted from the fact that he’d been right the whole time than feeling any kind of pity for the blond boy. “I knew it!” he exclaimed, which made others look at him weirdly. 

“ So,” He quickly cleared his throat. “The whole power  _ inconvenience  _ was made up?”

Armin didn’t say anything, but it was answer enough for the brunette and an almost gloatingly smile crossed his lips. 

“Guess we can go then, huh?” he continued. This time it was Armin’s head that snapped up; his huge blue eyes were fixed on Jean. 

“No! You can’t! It’s my responsibility to keep everyone inside."

Jean rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. “Look,” he started. “I will not stay in here, because some idiot apparently thinks he can decide what to do. I’ve no clue what’s going on, but I won’t just do nothing! You will now open the fucking door, let us out, and try to explain that to your shitbrain of a boss.”

The employee still looked at him with an expression, as if somebody had slapped him out of nowhere right across his face. Which Jean would never dare to do. Firstly, because he wasn’t violent and, secondly, this guy looked more like a puppy than a puppy itself. The fact that Armin wasn’t protesting against Jean’s words anymore gave him the impression that he let him win for once. 

“C’mon Marco, let’s… Marco?” He spun around, just to see the new found company kneeling next to a woman, who had her back turned to the others. She was rocking back and forth, as far as Jean could tell. Jean knew him for like half an hour and he already figured out the mighty need of helping others that kept this guy going. Slowly, he approached him and knelt down next to them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, barely whispering. He was immediately met by Marco’s eyes with worry reflecting in them.  

“I don’t know..” he whispered back, patting her shoulder in a calming manner. 

The woman kept her head low and her hands pressed against the side of her face. Jean had to concentrate on what she was quietly saying, over and over again.

“They’re coming… coming.. we should.. we should have seen it coming. They’re coming.. I’ve always been good.. always..”

Okay, this was not creepy at all. Jean backed away and sighed. “Do you wanna stay here?” he asked, tilting his head. “Because I thought we could… y’know..”

Awkwardly he rubbed his neck, trying to make his request sounding as smooth as the rest of his flirting (which hadn’t been very smooth to begin with, but that was besides the point), but his words were cut off before he even had the chance to say anything more. 

The thundering sound of something smashing all mighty against the blinds was gaining the attention from everyone in the room. Silence returned, but nobody dared to speak, listening carefully if it might happen again.

And it did. Once, twice, three times. The gap of each hit was getting shorter, until the sound of something hitting against the blinds was the only thing audible in the entire market. The woman next to Marco started to scream and, quickly, everyone in the room panicked. It was like when birds flew against windows, just.. hundreds of them, without pause, and the panicking customers were the ones fleeing from the swarm of birds. This was some Hitchcock shit going on right here. 

“Please, everyone, calm down!” was Armin’s voice peeping from where he had sit on the ground, but nobody paid attention. Not even Marco, who was now becoming unable to cope with the panic around him. Jean squeezed himself through the crowd that was trying to get away from the entrance as fast as possible. Only Jean was the odd one out, with curiosity leading him to the main door. He saw quite a few shadows right behind the posters plastered on the glass and he wondered what was going on.

A feather light touch against his arm made him jump internally and he inhaled sharply. 

“What are you doing?” Marco asked, brows furrowed, his voice merely a whisper.

“I wanna know what’s going on.” he responded with a slight condescending overtone, which wasn’t passing Marco unnoticed, but he didn’t react to it, just kept looking worried. 

Jean approached the door after finally being able to jump over the barrier without getting held back. He was used to those kinds of doors that were going open whenever someone came close to them, and even though Armin said they were locked, he didn’t feel better. Right now, he felt anything but at ease. Although he’d been ready to just walk out and be done with this  _ problem,  _ he suddenly feared the doors would open. 

Growling noises were coming from behind the glass and Marco’s grip on his arm, which he still held tightly, was becoming even tighter. For a fleeting moment, Jean was confused and interpreted too much into it, but before his thoughts managed to travel even further, the sudden sound of deep snarling caught his attention. The shadows moved and a few seconds later, the dark shape was giving a hint of what creature was trying to.. get in? There couldn’t be another reason. Citizens were banging against the blinds, it seemed, and the people coming closer to the thin door didn’t act like being in haste. 

That changed when Jean stepped even closer, trying to look through the glass. He pulled one of the posters up a little and glanced through the revealed spot. With a shriek he jumped back and landed on his ass, chest heaving with shock. He straight-out had looked into the face of someone, whose eyes were milky, as if the colour had been sucked out. It seemed now that Jean had encouraged the people outside to take the easy way and smash themselves against the main door. It was a matter of time until the glass would break and let them burst in. Jean crawled over the ground backwards and quickly felt secure arms sneaking their way under his own, just to pull him up. 

Jean turned around in his spot and pulled Marco with him. They both practically and inelegantly plunged over the barrier and to the ground. They both shared a few glances before looking over-the-waist high barrier when, at the exact moment, the door was breaking with a frightful clatter.

The scenario that was presented to them, was frightening and absolutely not what Jean had expected. Over a dozen people were literally stumbling inside and pushing each other, but neither Marco nor Jean believed it was because they were fleeing from something. On the contrary, they seemed to search and apparently they found whatever they were looking for. Besides their growling and gurgling, which was already making them inhuman, their eyes were the most strikingly characteristic. Despite the fact that they were still kind of far away, it was impossible to not notice the white eyes of those bursting in. They couldn’t really focus, but still seemed to see.

What happened to seem like a movie experience, continued to be one. 

Again, Jean and Marco shared glances and both nodded at each other as a sign to head back. Armin was standing there, watching the weird people come inside and approach them. He wasn’t reacting when Jean was snapping with his fingers right in front of his face. “C’mon, where’s the emergency exit?”

No response. Jean was getting impatient within a few seconds of a heartbeat, not without a good reason though. He backed away even further and Armin still stood there, watching the mob crawling, falling and stumbling over each other and the barrier. Things were already crashing to the ground and the abandoned shopping carts were knocked over. 

“Armin,” Marco gently whispered and pulled at the blonde’s arm, just as carefully as his voice was. “We have to get to the emergency exit. Like.. now.”

Finally, Armin seemed to react and blinked at the boys for a few seconds before nodding and turning around. The other customers were holding onto each other as well and no one waited too long when Armin was leading everyone through the market.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the only one fast enough to get through the store. The people following them were now freed from any kind of hindrance and were charging towards the panicking group. Everything happened so fast, and Jean barely managed to think about his own safety, including his newfound friend, so whatever happened far behind him was out of his mind. He couldn’t even pretend he cared. Luckily it hadn’t been a mistake to trust Armin, and they found their way to a door he quickly opened. Everyone was rushing through and, for a moment, it seemed as if they weren’t as different to the gurgling mob, which definitely wanted to attack the fugitives. 

It seemed that everyone was safe and Armin was close to closing the door, but it was pushed open again and cause the blonde to struggle backwards. Everyone had run away and Jean was in the process of doing the same, if a freckled someone hadn’t turned around to help the overwhelmed employee. 

Marco had closed the door as quickly as possible, but someone had managed to get in (which had caused Armin to fall in the first place). At least the door was closed and after pulling the smaller boy up, he got busy with locking the door. Marco, on the other hand, walked towards the person who got inside the hallway that would lead to the courtyard. Oddly, the person wasn’t moving much, not as before, just standing there and breathing heavily.

“Sir? Are you alright?” he asked carefully, coming closer one step at a time. “Can I help?”

Jean had waited close to the exit and was watching the scenario; only then, when Marco was attempting to hold a conversation with the intruder, Jean felt like he had to keep Marco back from the visible, more than confused guy.

“Marco.. don’t touch him.” he whispered, holding his hands up as if trying to calm the person - or to keep himself safe. It was a weird gesture, but it was happening by itself and it strangely made him feel better.

Armin sneaked behind Marco and passed the person standing in the way. 

“But I think he needs help.."  
  


“They all need help, we’ve got time to think about that later.”

And with that, Marco turned his back on the stranger, who threw himself onto him with a loud growl. Jean gasped loudly, reacting immediately. This was not a normal behaviour. Whatever was going on with this guy, it wasn’t justifying any kind of violence coming from him and he had to be stopped. Jean wasn’t the violent kind of person, but seeing someone attack somebody else (especially someone who tried to help) was absolutely not okay- no matter if the person was sick or not. 

Without hesitation the brunette was at Marco’s side after a few steps. He pulled his leg back like he was ready to kick and, within a second, his foot met the shoulder of the attacker. Marco instantly turned around. The guy who seemed like he had rabies was standing up after having his shoulder heavily-kicked. Jean noticed how his arm was hanging, unmoving. Did he really hurt him that much? There wasn’t so much time to think about it twice, and the person with white eyes was charging at them again. This time it was Marco kicking out like a baby on his back, hitting the guy against his knee and the crack of bones breaking echoed through the hall. With an unbelievable expression, they stared at the mess on the ground. Instead of complaining about the pain he must have felt, he was dragging himself over the ground, leaving a red trail of blood. Something was going completely wrong, but neither one of them was capable of thinking about it now. 

Jean reached down to Marco and his hand was grabbed within an instant. Armin still waited for them and was just as shocked as they were. Together, they rushed outside and fled just like the others did.

Without even questioning it, holding onto each other was becoming a habit for them both.


End file.
